Page 77 of The Dragon and the Dove

Here was a man who was not afraid to take what he wanted from the world, to defy the divine threads of fate and instead fashion his own. A small twisted part of Theo admired him for it. A small dangerous part that envied him for it.

Andreas smiled like he knew it.

Another shriek rang out.

Outside, a monstrous Strix descended on the clock tower, and its rider lurched, snatching something from the upper floor.

It looked like…

Hell’s teeth.

Panic razed through Theo as he flung himself at the window, watching as his friend was snatched away by an Urnican warlord.

‘You scheming bastard,’ he swore, raising his dagger.

But when he turned back, the Silver-tongue Saint was gone.

The side door closed with a thud.

The room was empty.

He had missed his chance.

Outside, more Strix landed in the quad. The ceiling shuddered, a plume of dust cascading over him as weapons tumbled from the wall. Cursing, Theo made for the ballroom, barely making it three steps before the windows of the Appoline exploded.

He hit the floor, covering his head as glass rained down. Shards nicked his arms and neck, drawing blood. More weapons fell, crowns and chalices clattering around him. The night wind swept in with a howl, and when he got to his feet, a pair of moonlit shapes caught his eye as though Saint Maurius himself had illuminated them.

Val and Anouk.

They were climbing out of a hydrangea bush on the other side of the quad.

Theo bolted, swinging onto the windowsill and leaping through the shattered pane, leaving the Appoline quaking behind him.

Val met him halfway across the quad. Anouk staggered after her, caught in the throes of a panic attack.

‘Where the hell were you?’ yelled Val, shaking him. ‘Seraphine’s gone!’

‘I saw,’ he said, looking to the skies. ‘Where’s Hale?’

‘Dead!’ Anouk sobbed. ‘He must be dead.’

Val’s eyes were as wild as her hair. ‘She’s going to tear this whole place down.’

‘Andreas is gone.’

‘Fuck Andreas,’ she cried. ‘We were fools to come here!’

Theo’s magic prickled, attuned to the nearby shift of power. Death magic rippled over the pool of his soul and the Necromancer appeared, slipping through the door of the clock tower, with Nadia and a blonde in tow.

They were carrying a body.

‘Hale.’ Even from here, he could sense Ransom’s waning magic, his languishing soul. Shadows dripped from him like blood.

Anouk flew like an arrow, her feet barely touching the grass as she vaulted across the quad. Val and Theo went after her. She flung herself at Lark, drawing Nadia to her too.

‘That’s the bitch who killed Bibi.’ Val lunged at the blonde with such a fury she ripped half her ponytail off. They fell to the ground, kicking and swinging, while Hale, without anyone to hold him up, collapsed in a heap.

Theo stood over him, cataloguing the damage. It was catastrophic. Ransom’s face was as pale as winter snow, the edges of his lips turning blue. Blood poured from a knife wound in his side. The blade was still stuck there. The hilt was familiar. Foreboding.